Fan the Flames Read Free

you… lost it.” The deputy’s accusing gaze lowered to Ian’s chain-free neck. “Maybe next time you kill an innocent man, don’t drop any identifying jewelry at the crime scene.”
    Yanking free of Ian’s grip, the deputy hurried away, heading toward the sheriff. Ian watched him, a small part of his brain wondering if Lawrence was getting reinforcements to return and arrest him for assault. The rest of his mind was running over this new information.
    â€œDamn it,” he growled under his breath. And damn him , for not trying harder to get that pendant back.
    Lawrence was talking to Sheriff Rob Coughlin, and both men were looking at him. Although Ian was ninety percent sure that Rob, a stand-up guy, would take his side over Deputy Lawrence’s, he figured they could chase him if they really wanted to drag him to jail. Besides, he needed to talk to Lou and Callum. Not only were they unofficially looking into Willard Gray’s—the headless dead guy’s—murder, but they were two people he knew for sure were on his side in this whole mess.
    After donning his helmet, Ian started his bike. Despite everything—the murder investigation, his inconveniently missing pendant, his exhaustion and aching shoulder, the threatening snow—Ian felt a thrill at the familiar sound of the engine firing. He’d done that. He’d taken a broken-down bike and rebuilt it, giving it new life.
    Too bad not everything was that simple to save.
    With a final glance at the blackened ruin that had been a barn earlier that day, Ian roared off into the icy mountain night.

Chapter 1
    If Zup didn’t decide on the rifle within the next two minutes, Rory was going to shoot him.
    Unfortunately, because he was the son of the local motorcycle club’s president, killing him—or even just putting a hole where no hole had been before—would pretty much guarantee severe consequences. Since Rory was moderately content with her life at the moment, she’d rather not have it end abruptly. Drawing a long breath in through her nose and praying for patience, she employed her subpar salesmanship skills.
    â€œWhat’s the problem?”
    Zup looked up from his scowling appraisal of the SUB 2000. “Maze said he had a Kel-Tec, and it jammed all the time.”
    â€œTell Maze to quit using crap ammo.” He just frowned at her. With another deep breath, she tried again. “These rifles are built to use common pistol magazines.”
    â€œI know.” He held the rifle to his shoulder again. “That’s why I want one. That, and it can fold in half, so it’d be small enough to carry around in a laptop case.”
    â€œWell, the recoil spring and bolt are heavier than in a pistol.” With a great effort, she kept most of the condescension out of her voice. Rory hated having to explain things to people, especially guys like Zup, who just ignored her anyway. This was why she hadn’t become a teacher. Well, that, and she’d most likely fail the background check—and probably the psych exam. “If you use poor quality rounds, you’re going to get some failures.”
    Zup’s frown turned from the rifle to her. “Maze loads all our ammo. Are you telling me he’s fucking it up?”
    â€œWhat I’m saying ,” she gritted through clenched teeth, “is that if you run good ammo through this rifle, it’s going to be reliable.”
    After eyeing her suspiciously for a few seconds, he grunted and brought the stock to his shoulder again. He shifted his position several times as he peered through the sights, and then complained, “This steel pipe sucks as a cheek rest.”
    â€œThat’s it.” She jumped off the counter where she’d been sitting and held out her hands. “Give it to me.”
    Instead, he turned away from her while tucking the rifle close to his chest. “Hang on,” he told her.